'But it's OK though, isn't it? Because you already have one.'
This has to be one of the most soul-destroying sentences I have heard since Ross and I started trying for a baby. My second child and his first. My body worked first time, so why not again?
The guilt I feel over having a baby with the wrong man, but not being able to have one with the right man, is immense. Yes, I have my nine-year-old daughter, but while my body tells me it is done with having babies, my heart and soul are crying out for more.
I had Grace when I was almost 37. It was having her that made me see that the relationship I was in was abusive, so I left when she was three months old. By the time I was almost 40, I had accepted that I might never have another child. Then Ross came along and everything changed.
We have been together for almost five years and for over two-and-a-half of those we have been trying for a baby. I first fell pregnant after just three months - but I miscarried after six weeks. I got pregnant again over a year later, but this time it was a self-aborting ectopic pregnancy. The amount of pressure that each month now puts on our sex life has become a big strain on our relationship. We keep saying that we can't wait until we get 'back to normal'.
We have been trying to establish what is wrong but, because this is secondary infertility, we are struggling to be taken seriously. I have had a great deal of difficulty with GPs and hospitals. We are not allowed IVF on the NHS because I already have Grace and because I am over 40. It doesn't seem to matter that Ross is seven years younger than me and has no biological child of his own.
Despite the hurdles, we didn't give up. Our GP finally agreed to send Ross for a semenology test - which came back normal. I went to see a specialist, and after a number of questions, without any physical tests, I was advised that I had unexplained infertility - and that the endometriosis and balanced translocation of my chromosomes were a contributing factor.
A balanced translocaton is where a part of one of your chromosomes has swapped places with part of another, which means they compensate each other and cancel out any abnormalities. If you get pregnant, then your baby could contract just one of your abnormal chromosomes resulting in disability or miscarriage.
At my request, I was then sent for an Anti-Mullerian hormone blood test thought to reflect the size of a woman's remaining egg supply - or 'ovarian reserve'. A healthy woman has a count of 15 to 30. Mine was less than five - giving us a 20% chance of IVF being successful.
Faced with this knowledge, we investigated the possibility of an egg donor last summer. We found out that it was a legal requirement in the UK that the donor was declared - but in many other countries, they have to remain anonymous.
We learnt that a woman of a younger child-bearing age, who has gone through a multitude of tests and screening processes, is matched to you, your characteristics and your interests. They then match up your menstrual cycle, either naturally or via the contraceptive pill. Most clinics then guarantee you a minimum of 10 eggs ready for fertilisation. We attended the Fertility Show and kept on researching, and then found a clinic in Cyprus we really liked.
I had been struggling with the fact that the baby would not be genetically mine. However, the research I have read on epigenetics has given me so much comfort. Even though a donor egg baby receives genes from the donor, the instructions on how they are expressed is from the woman who carries the baby to term.
We have now completed our paperwork and have chosen a donor. The next stage is to start medication at the beginning of my next cycle – which involves at least one injection a day for 12 weeks. Ross and I will then travel to Cyprus and stay there for eight days. Ross will provide a sample to use for fertilisation, and after five days two embryos will then be transplanted into me. I've been keeping a vlog diary on my YouTube channel of our journey so far, and sharing this on my blog every weekend.
Even though we are having to go through so much and pay in so many ways for this baby - including costs in the region of £7,000 - it all somehow feels right now. I started this process feeling worried about being a failure, and scared of the medical procedure. Now, I'm full of feelings of excitement and anticipation. When I woke up on New Year's Day, I said to Ross 'This is the year we are going to meet our baby'. I am still worried about all the medication and scared of what is to come, including the heartache of it not working, but the want for our newborn far outweighs this.